Sheets
by Panda Gravy
Summary: Chase knows what a bed is, of course he does. He's seen beds with all their blankets and pillows and the mattress and everything. And he isn't afraid of them or anything. That would be absolutely ridiculous. Chase is far too logical for that. A bed is a normal thing that normal people sleep in and he isn't put-off at all by normal things. They're perfectly normal.


Chase knows what a bed is, of course he does. He's seen beds with all their blankets and pillows and the mattress and everything. And he isn't afraid of them or anything. That would be absolutely ridiculous. Chase is far too logical for that. A bed is a normal thing that normal people sleep in and he isn't put-off at all by normal things. They're perfectly normal.

He reiterates all this to his siblings as they head up to their temporary bedrooms for the first time since the lab was destroyed. "I know we aren't used to these things," he says, trying to sound reassuring and comforting. "But trust me, it's just like sleeping in our capsules, except… horizontal. And out in the open. No boundaries between us and the outside world. And surrounded by blankets and pillows and other things that could cause one to suffocate or be choked by in the middle of the night."

Chase barely realizes he's stopped in the middle of the stairs and Adam and Bree have stopped a few steps up, staring back at him expectantly as he stands there wringing the hem of his shirt in his hands. They exchange a look, a shared smirk, before Bree takes a step back down toward her little brother. "Chase… you aren't… afraid of sleeping in a bed, are you?" she teases, using the steps to get a little height advantage over him.

Scoffing, Chase maneuvers around his sister on the stairs, continuing up toward the spare bedrooms. "That's stupid, why would I be afraid of sleeping in a bed?" he snorts, trying not to look at Adam as he wiggles past him. But even without looking, he can feel his brother's amused grin on him. He glances behind him again, suspiciously, to catch them sharing that same sneaky smile. That only prompts him to quicken his pace to the bedrooms.

"Aww, Chasey, it's alright," Adam calls after him in that mock-baby tone. "We won't let the big, bad bed get you."

Chase groans and rolls his eyes, stopping in the hallway to turn on them again and stomp his foot. "I'm not afraid of beds! I just want you two to be aware that it's going to be a lot different than sleeping in our capsules and you should be prepared for the shock of it." He crosses his arms defiantly as Adam and Bree join him, Adam rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"I've totally slept in a bed before, dude," his older brother admits, acting all high and mighty like it's no big deal.

Chase frowns, feeling his steely composure cracking. "You… you have? When?"

"When I was a baby," Adam says simply and proudly. "Duh."

Chase scrunches his nose, regaining his confidence. "Adam, there's no way you remember sleeping in a crib as a baby," he admonishes, letting his annoyance now motivate him into opening the first spare bedroom door, the one he'll claim for himself. Why on earth Mr. Davenport has three spare bedrooms in this house (used to be four before he married Tasha, and Leo needed a room) Chase will never know. The man has never had guests and kept his kids confined to a basement their entire lives, so it isn't like anyone was ever going to use them. But at least they're here for the taking now, when they actually finally need them.

"I do!" Adam argues, following Chase into the room as he flips on the light. The bed is a little unnecessarily lavish for a room that never gets used, and the windows are adorned with velvet curtains. At least it has its own bathroom attached. Chase is mildly surprised there isn't a layer of dust over everything, but there's also probably some kind of invention that vacuums the room daily or something. "I remember sleeping in a tiny bed and crying a lot," Adam insists, going over to the bed and sitting himself down. "And I remember eating a lot of mushy food, it was soooo good…" he recalls kind of wistfully, placing a hand on his stomach and letting his head fall back, eyes closed in apparent bliss.

Chase cocks an eyebrow and glances to Bree, who shrugs at him. Okay, maybe Adam does remember being a baby. Which is weird and opens up its own set of questions, but Chase isn't about to get into that right now. "Adam, I was going to take this room," he says instead, gesturing to his brother sitting on the bed.

Instead of moving, Adam laughs and props his feet up, lounging back into the pillows. "Oh, well, sorry, bro. I got here first. It's like that Christopher Columbus guy said; finders keepers." At first, Chase frowns and considers that statement and how Adam doesn't even realize that even though he's wrong, he's kind of right. But instead of explaining it to him, the younger brother just sighs and stomps out of the room and for the one across the hall, Bree tagging along behind.

"Nope, this one's mine." Bree whizzes past Chase to grab the door handle before Chase can and he throws his hands out in defeat.

"You haven't even seen it yet," he snaps. "What reason could you possibly have to take this one?"

"Just to beat you to it," Bree responds, quickly blowing her brother a kiss with a mocking wink before disappearing into the bedroom.

That leaves the bedroom at the end of the hall between his two siblings and Chase sighs. Well, the one comfort he can draw from it all is the knowledge that, like their capsules, he'll have Bree and Adam on either side of him. There can be some sense of familiarity there.

All comfort leaves his body as Chase opens up the last bedroom, finding it to obviously be a storage room for Mr. Davenport's "art." Every inch of wall is covered. The worst part may be the rug, though, a shag carpet rendering of Mr. Davenport's face. "Great," he groans to himself, not bothering to check the bathroom, where he's sure a lifesize Mr. Davenport adorns the shower curtain. "Just great."

At least the bed is Davenport free, he thinks. Until he pulls back the comforter to find little grinning Davenport heads all over the place. Chase nearly recoils in disgust, but decides at least he won't be able to see any of it once the lights are off, and flips the switch. The room is much better this way, thank goodness, and Chase finally, tentatively slides into the bed.

It's weird being wrapped in blankets, a pillow cushioning his head, having so much space in a large bed. He's napped on the couch before, yeah, but it's a small space, just like his capsule. And if he turns toward the back of the couch, it feels more enclosed and comforting. This… the room is huge. There's a ton of space around him. And blankets and sheets draped over him, which threaten to end his life in the middle of the night.

Despite his concerns, the weight of the day finally begins to catch up to Chase and his eyes get heavier. Capsule or not, after a couple minutes in the bed (which is actually kind of comfortable) Chase's light is out.

…

There's nothing but blackness around Chase. For a moment, he struggles to open his eyes, until he realizes they're already open and he just can't see anything, not a flicker, not an outline, not even his own hands in front of him. So he begins to strain, willing himself to see. Surely if he just tries hard enough, he'll see something. There can't be a total absence of light here.

His legs are heavy, too, hard to drag along as he attempts to walk, hands out in front of him hoping to feel something before he runs into it. He doesn't understand what's going on, why there's not at least a little light, why his legs feel so trapped and weighted.

Suddenly, something zips tight around his legs, pulling them together and causing Chase to crash to the floor. He sits up, grabbing at his legs to free himself and finding some kind of blanket wrapped tightly around him, glued to him and refusing to let go. He's yanking and clawing at the blanket when suddenly a sheet twisted like a rope flies around his neck, strangling him. Chase gasps for air, panicking as he tries prying his fingers in between the sheet and his throat. As if it's not all bad enough already, he can feel something soft and yet threatening pushing in on him from all sides, pillows and mattresses, squeezing him.

…

Chase wakes suddenly, gasping and coughing like he'd been choking on something. The comforter is over his head, the bedsheets wrapped around him uncomfortably, and there are just too many pillows on the bed, one even pressed right against his face.

The bionic teen flings himself out of the bed, nearly falling flat on his face with one of his feet still tangled in the sheets a moment before he can yank it free.

"Nope!" he announces to no one, pointing accusingly at the bed. "No way, not sleeping in that thing."

The room is darker than the lab ever was. The darkness makes the sheets and pillows on the bed seem even more malicious than they already are. In the lab, there were always blinking lights, glowing computer screens, a soft glimmer that had led Chase comfortably into sleep his entire life. Here, there's a window with a sliver of moonlight peeking through, but even when Chase pulls the curtains open a little more, it doesn't do much good to light up the room and eliminate the alarming shadows. And turning on all the lights would just be too much in the other direction. Luckily, there's a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall which Chase turns on, muted. A little closer to the lab, he supposes.

But he can't get back into the deathtrap that is the bed. It tried to kill him once. It's not getting a second chance.

So he'll sleep standing up, like he's meant to. But he doesn't have his capsule to help, so Chase arranges himself leaning back against a wall, letting it support him. This will work, he thinks, trying to convince himself. Just as good as a capsule. Better, even. Although the capsule would be using a magnetic polarity to keep him upright… Whatever, wall is good.

As he closes his eyes, he can almost believe that the blue glow through his eyelids is coming from consoles and computer screens and not an infomercial.

…

Chase is vaguely aware of himself hitting the ground, and pretty hard, too, but he's so tired that he just rubs his head for a moment before curling up, hugging himself and holding his fingers against his mouth.

He's also somewhat aware of the bedroom door opening and being hoisted up under his arms, then lifted up and carried. Definitely a weird dream, he notices, but not bad, not nearly as bad as being strangled by the bedding. So he curls his fingers in the shirt of the mysterious figure carrying him, turns his face against them, inhales them and finds it to be a familiar, comforting smell. This isn't a bad dream to have at all. The person's shoulder feels a lot better on his face than the carpet did, after all.

…

Chuckling breaks through Chase's consciousness, but his eyelids are too heavy to open, so he ignores it. Then whatever his head is resting on shakes slightly. He sighs and readjusts, and he can hear the voice again, this time taking some notice of it. He'd recognize it anywhere.

What he doesn't recognize is the feeling of a hard chest under his cheek, an arm around his shoulders, keeping him close, his own arm wrapped around a slight waist.

"Adam?" Chase asks groggily, finally forcing his eyes open and pushing himself to sit up and out of the closeness. Which… admittedly felt really good. It's like Adam's got a shape carved out between his side and arm that Chase fits into perfectly. Then again, maybe that space was hollowed out for him by years of headlocks and being pinned while wrestling. Still, the confusion here outweighs however comfortable Chase might have been. "What are you doing?"

"Watching this commercial," Adam says, gesturing toward the TV, which now has the volume on low. "It's so funny. No one can hold on to anything. They just drop everything." He laughs out loud to himself again, this time pointing at the TV as an entire family loses hold of their drinks and end up covered in various fruit juices.

Chase frowns at the commercial, trying to figure out why that would ever happen in the real world, but shakes his head. "No, I mean, why are you in my room?" he clarifies.

Adam shrugs, adjusting to sit up against the headboard. "I heard this big ol' thump through the wall and thought I'd check it out," he explains. "Then I found you sleeping on the floor, which was weird, so I was putting you back in the bed and I saw this great commercial on TV so I stuck around to watch it for a couple hours."

"A couple hours?" Chase had been asleep in Adam's arms for a couple hours? Oh, great. His brother was never going to let him live this down.

"Yeah, dude. I can't believe you're so afraid of a bed that you were sleeping on the ground instead," Adam snorts, apparently having found the image of Chase curled up on the floor hilarious. Of course he did.

Chase crosses his arms pointedly. "That's not what happened! I wasn't… afraid!" he retorts, oh-so confidently.

"Oh, yeah? Then why weren't you in the bed?" Adam challenges, refocused on the TV and smiling to himself as he watches people lose their grip on things.

Chase chews his lip for a moment. What does he say? He fell out of bed? And rolled all the way to the wall. He must have a new levitation ability that took him out of bed in his sleep? Good thing Adam found him on the floor and not the ceiling! Or maybe he just found the floor more comfortable. Hard, scratchy carpet is the best, you should try it out sometime.

"I had a nightmare, alright? The sheets were strangling me so I tried sleeping standing up because it would feel more like my capsule," Chase admits reluctantly with a sigh. "I guess I must have… lost balance and fallen over." He takes a breath and closes his eyes tight, preparing himself for the onslaught of jokes at his expense and the very real possibility that Adam would actively use this information to hurt Chase in some way.

"Oh, is that all?" Adam asks. "Pfft, I can fix that."

Chase flinches in anticipation, wondering what Adam is going to do. When nothing comes at him, he opens his eyes slowly to see Adam exactly where he was, lounging on the bed watching an infomercial, not doing a thing. Chase glances around the room suspiciously, not knowing at all what he's looking for but feeling as though he definitely isn't safe. Still nothing… He frowns at Adam, leaning away worriedly. "Uhm… how do you plan to do that?" He squints, ready now to leap off the bed to evade whatever Adam has planned.

"I'll just stay here and keep the sheets weighted down so they can't do anything," Adam says simply, as if it's obvious, patting the bed covers.

He'll… stay there? Is Adam saying he's going to sleep in Chase's bed all night? To keep Chase from having bad dreams? Who is this stranger and where is Chase's brother?

In reality, it actually makes some amount of sense. If they stay on top of the covers like they are now and if there's another person there, it's harder for Chase to get the sheets wrapped up around himself accidentally again and end up dreaming about suffocating in bedding. Not like Adam realizes that, though. In honesty, he probably thinks some sentient sheets really did try to strangle his brother and that if he sits on them they can't do anything.

"Now lay down and go back to sleep, dude," Adam tells him, reaching for the remote and muting the TV again. Chase is grateful he doesn't turn it off altogether. The light coming off of it is still a comfort to him that he wants present, even if he doesn't have to worry about the sheets anymore. He wonders if they soft bloom of light from the television has the same effect on Adam as it does on him.

Awkwardly, Chase lays himself down as Adam also readjusts. As he's trying to figure out how to lay comfortably, Adam's arm forces itself around Chase's shoulders and pulls him in like he'd been laying before, tucked in against Adam's chest. His hands stiffen up, trapped between them, but Adam groans, "Relax, dude. I told you I'm gonna keep you safe and I will." He says it like it's so simple and this isn't odd or out of character for Adam at all. It puts Chase on edge, but it feels so good to be so close to Adam that he starts to naturally meld against him and breathe normally again. He never knew what a comfort it could be to be held protectively by his brother instead of in a headlock getting a noogie. It's… nice.

"Why are you being so nice?" Chase asks, still somewhat suspicious. This is just too unusual for him to accept.

Adam's shoulder moves a little in a shrug under Chase's head. "I don't like the thought of something freaking you out so much," he admits tiredly, his voice soft like he's only half awake now.

A smile creeps onto Chase's mouth. Adam beats on him and calls him names and truly tortures him sometimes, but he cares, just a little bit.

Chase can tell that Adam falls asleep before him. He can feel his breathing even out and how he sinks a little more into the bed. Only then does Chase let himself drape an arm over his abdomen and find the best place to lay his head on Adam's chest, right underneath his collarbone.

Maybe Chase is being too optimistic, but this affection from Adam, Adam thinking he's 'protecting' him, it feels really nice.

…

After sleeping dreamlessly and peacefully the rest of the night, Chase is awakened yet again by giggling. "Shh, he's gonna wake up," another voice says.

"Whatever, he's not going to do anything," the giggling one says back. Bree. Definitely Bree.

Groaning, Chase peels his eyes open, the remnants of sleep trying to keep them shut. He goes to stretch his arms over his head as he blinks away sunlight streaming through the window, but he realizes with a sudden panic that they're definitely pinned to his sides.

He jolts fully awake then, eyes snapping open as he wiggles around, finding himself completely swaddled in sheets. "Adam!" he shouts, spotting his brother and sister standing over him, the latter snapping photos on her cell phone. "Bree, knock it off! Delete those! Untie me!" Chase shouts orders at them, flopping hopelessly on the bed.

"Aww, Chasey-Wasey," Adam drawls, reaching down to pinch Chase's cheek. Chase attempts biting his brother's fingers in response, but he's too quick to yank his hand away. "I knew you were afraid of getting tangled in the sheets, so… I wrapped you up like the baby you are so the mean ol' blankets can't hurt you anymore."

Chase yells, thrusting himself forward to sit up and swinging his legs off the bed. "Just wait til I get my hands on you two!" he growls, managing to work his way onto his feet while still wrapped in the sheet.

"Uh, I don't think you're getting your hands on anything any time soon," Bree laughs, then sprints out of the room.

Adam, on the other hand, simply takes a step back and out of the way, smirking with his arms crossed as Chase struggles to keep his balance. "Adam, come on! What happened to being a good brother?" Chase asks, trying to keep from feeling too disappointed.

Adam sighs, uncrossing his arms and lets his head lull back for a second. When he looks at Chase again, the smirk is gone, replaced with a more sympathetic look. "Hey, whenever you can't sleep or you're freaked out by something or whatever… I'll be there, okay?" he says, but Chase is still frowning, distrusting of the promise, but Adam places a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. "You're my little brother, I'm not gonna let things like bad dreams hurt you."

Chase considers this for a second, searching Adam's face for a hint of sarcasm. All that's there, though, is total sincerity. Maybe Adam really means it. Maybe he is a brother that Chase can count on to be there for him, despite how much he picks on him. Maybe Adam is maturing and learning that he has some responsibilities as a brother.

"Okay. Thanks," Chase says, nodding. "So… you're gonna untie me now?"

"Oh, no," Adam laughs, using the hand on Chase's shoulder to give him a shove so that he falls backwards onto the bed again. "Cause if you tell me you're afraid of something like sheets, dude, you can't expect me to not do this." Adam brushes his hands together, clearly proud of his handiwork as he strolls out of the room, leaving Chase staring after him, mouth agape.

"Adam! Adam!" he hollers after him, pushing himself back up onto his feet and hopping a little ways before he trips and faceplants.

Stupid sheets.


End file.
